Time

Theresa Boatwright-Runnels-Richards pushed the tips of her fingers through her loosened, sweaty hair and reached back to tighten her ballerina topknot. Sitting back on her heels, she smiled, satisfied; the garden was complete, at last.

Roses love garlic, She thought to herself, wiping her dirty hands on her the pantleg of her denim overalls, Ivy loves a wall. Can't plant those Bluebells by the creek....

She shrieked in abject surprise when a pair of hands reached around to cup her eyes, "Stevie!" She protested, poking him in the ribs with her elbow as he let go with a rich merry laugh.

"I can't fool you, Ter-ri," He complained, tracing the nude curves of her lips, "The garden looks beautiful!"

"Aww," She rose to her feet. The undeveloped, dark-brown dirt didn't seem quite beautiful to her yet. "There's not even a bloom on the bush yet." She shrugged off his compliment.

"It's gonna be beautiful," He stated doggedly, wrapping an arm around her waist as they trundled her gardening tools back to the shed, "You just watch!"

She believed him with all of her heart, and that was the best part of being married to the man. His honesty a refreshing counterpoint to the old world she'd known, every syllable could be trusted.

They slipped back into their house, a modest split-level colonial that had been closer to Dakota's school than Terri's old place had been. Conversely, Dustin had to drive an extra mile in another direction to pick their daughter
up for visitation. But he never minded; now that Terri was home more often they had a better opportunity to talk about such matters; her relationship with her ex-husband was better now than it had been in months.

One fatuous cloud hovered over the merry lives of the Richards; in a week, Stevie's contract would be up for renewal. Fear that Vince would choose to hold Terri's disobedience against Stevie clouded her world, leaving
steel gray tracks on the bright sky.

Choosing to push back those thoughts for the moment, she kissed her husband's strong jaw, "I'm gonna go upstairs and change. Keep an eye out for Dakota and Dustin, OK?"

"Mkay," He responded, caressing her arm and leaving a line of goose bumps in the wake of his caress.

Upstairs, Terri climbed into the tub with a tired, satisfied sigh, created of a day well-lived. It had indeed been a productive day; she'd managed to do a little sketching. She'd only recently begun to gain enough confidence to go on interviews for freelance commercial art jobs; no one interview had produced a job, but all had informed her of her potential, her ability.

From her place in the tub she could clearly see the portrait she'd created of Dakota. Hand-colored in shades of blue at her daughter's suggestion, it was almost Picassoish and certainly wasn't the sort of thing she'd ever expected to be doing with her time.

But all things were possible now. She told herself that as she exited the tub, toweled herself, and dressed again, returning downstairs in time to hear Dustin's greeting to Stevie.

She watched the men felicitously shake hands and exchange pleasantries about the weather, remaining unnoticed until Dakota cried out, "Mommy!" and waved. Terri reached the foot of the stairs and met her daughter in an embrace.

"Hi, Treasure," She gave her daughter a gentle hug and turned to give Dustin an embrace as well. "Dustin, how was the game?"

"The Rangers kicked ashe!" Burst out Dakota happily.

"Language, young lady!" Dustin admonished.

The little girl sheepishly lay her head on her mother's hip, "Sorry."

"S'OK," Terri told her, hugging her tightly, "Now, go wash up for dinner.."

"Uh, you're too late for that, Ter. I fed her on the way home."

Stevie frowned disapprovingly, "Dustin, you didn't ask. We were planning on eating pizza tonight."

"Aww!" Dakota pouted, "I ate all of that salad for nothin'."

Terri sighed, feeling guilty for scolding Dustin, "Sorry," She apologized for Stevie. "I never told Stevie that the plans were changed."

"Once again, Ter, it's OK. D and I had a great time. Next visit is Saturday, right?"

Terri nodded, "I'll be sure to have her ready. It's the planetarium next week?"

"Lazier Symphonic." Dustin said, "I know she likes music and I was wondering how she'd react to Bach and Beethoven."

"She likes that movie!" Stevie piped up, "It's got a big St. Bernard." He turned on his heel and added before walking to the kitchen, "Dakota loves St. Bernard's."

Dustin's smile faded just as little as Stevie left the room, "Are you sure he's treating you right, T?"

"Very." She smiled, "I've never been happier with a man. Present Company excepted, of course."

He snorted, "All but those years with dad breathing down our necks, right?" He teased.

"Right!" She smiled, "I'll see you Saturday."

"Take care of yourself, Ter," He said, "I don't know why I'm saying that, though. You look gorgeous. You've gained weight?"

"Food'll do that for you. Yup, twenty pounds." She grinned again.

Dustin then disappeared from her threshold, leaving Terri smiling in his wake. She hummed to herself as she straightened her sweater and pants set, strolling to the kitchen.

Stevie sat nibbling on an apple and staring into space. Now it was her turn to get revenge; smiling wickedly, she covered Stevie's eyes, eliciting a giggle, "Ter-ri, you have beautiful hands, but I can't see where my apple's going.."

She plucked it from his hands, "Let me help," she chipperly suggested. With a licentious grin, she pressed the apple to his lips. Taking a big chunk out, he chewed noisily. She then pulled the apple away, teasing him with it's smell. All the while her left hand never left his eyes.

Taunting, she rubbed his lips with the fruit, then pulled it away at a nipping gesture from below. The room was perfumed of apple, woven through the air by the tips of her fingers. Now, she could no longer resist simply
replacing the apple with her lips; her shiney fingers caressed his chest through his shirt and his hand tangled in her topknot. Quickly, sweetly, the kiss deepened, the passion between them, as always, heightening.

The insistent ring of a phone cut their passion to a halt. Terri let out a frustrated moan and pulled back from her husband, reaching the kitchen cell and opening it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Theresa Runnels?"

"Yes, it is."

"This is Loren Boehm."

Terri frowned, puzzlement touching her features, "The staff psychiatrist?"

"For the World Wrestling federation, yes."

"Yes, yes. Why are you calling."

"I'm afraid it's about your husband and his exam," Her voice held a tone of menace that frightened Terri, "Ma'am, there's a situation that needs to be cleared up. We need to talk."



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